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What is the love of your life?
The answer came in a few short moments. You.
Spencer was so humbled that he sagged back against the couch cushions. For over forty years, he’d assumed that art was his father’s one great love. But he’d been wrong this whole time.
The single-word answer was followed by a second text. Are you all right? Do you need something?
Yes, yes, Spencer did, but it wasn’t something his father could provide. He needed Del. Needed to tell him about Oscar, read him the good parts of the book, brainstorm what to do with the gift he’d been given. Did he really want Del to spend the rest of his life thinking Spencer had chosen a story over him? Did he want to be a distant man, like his father, never showing his true emotions? Did he want to bury his pain in work like Oscar had? There was only one answer to his questions that made sense, only one course of action he could take.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ready?” asked a SEAL from another team named White as they waited in a back room of a hangar on base for the Chief Petty Officer pinning ceremony.
“Not sure,” Bacon answered honestly. Both Bacon and White had missed much of the six week “induction period” that most new chiefs went through because they were deployed with their respective SEAL teams.
The ceremony would include all those who had recently made chief, not just SEALs. Because such a small percentage of enlisted people went on to make chief, the base made a big deal of the pinning ceremony, taking over a hangar so that family and friends could watch, having speeches and sharing traditions like having all the new chiefs sing a navy song—something Bacon was going to suck at. They wore their khaki dress uniforms, minus the cover—they’d get new hats with the new rank on them at the ceremony and would get their anchors pinned onto their uniform by someone special to them.
“Who is doing your pinning?” he asked White.
“My wife.” He looked about ready to bust from pride, wide shoulders rising. “It’s a good year for us. She just got her nurse practitioner’s degree, and I got to be there for her graduation. Now it’s my turn. We’re looking to buy a house. Maybe kids...” He trailed off with a dopey grin. “How about you?”
“My mom.” He was trying very hard not to think about Spencer. He would have had his mom do the honors regardless, but seeing White’s pride about his wife made his chest ache all over again. They could have had a future like that. Plans. Celebrations.
In the days since he’d heard Spencer on the radio, he’d almost texted or emailed two dozen times, but each time he stopped, not sure what to say that might make a difference. That and he’d been super busy with getting ready for the pinning ceremony—long days of activities. A sleepy, poorly worded text could come off as little more than a booty call, which wasn’t what he wanted. The best bet might be to talk in person, but that was going to have to wait. And maybe the longer he waited, the more likely he would be to come up with the right words.
All the new chiefs marched out together, along with flag bearers for the naval and American flags. The hangar had been decorated with red, white, and blue bunting and a lectern on a large platform for the speeches. Behind the stage hung a mammoth American flag and a smaller sign with the Sailor’s Creed on it, and off to one side was the ceremonial bell they would each ring. Metal folding chairs for the audience were arranged in front of the platform.
His mom was there, near the front, next to Curly’s fiancée, Rachel, and the senior chief’s wife. His mom had on a brand-new dress she’d sent him photos of—white with small red flowers—and a blue cardigan. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her prettier or happier, her wide smile telegraphing her pride. The many rows of chairs were crowded, mostly with people he didn’t know, but there were a few other familiar faces like Isaiah and their friend Maddox, a former SEAL, sitting together. And then, right as they turned a corner while marching, he glimpsed a profile he’d know anywhere sitting in the very last row.
Spencer.
Bacon almost missed his next step, and only years of training kept his face neutral. Or at least he hoped it was neutral and serious, as suited the occasion. But inside, his thoughts raced. Spencer had come. Here. To this. To watch him. That had to count for something, right? But then that was followed by a second, more dour thought, What if nothing’s changed? What if Spencer was simply being supportive? Maybe he didn’t even intend for Bacon to see him.
